BENEDICT  & GINGRICH 


1433  East  Colorado  Street 
PASADENA,  CALIFORNIA 

Phone,  Colorado  1856 


THE  STORY 
OF THE BATH 


Copyright  1922 

Domestic  Engineering  Company 
Chicago,  U.  S.  A. 


Price  Twenty-five  Cents 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


OT  so  long  ago  there  was  a man  who 
lived  in  the  country.  He  was  neither 
rich  nor  poor — just  fairly  well-to-do, 
as  the  saying  goes.  One  day  it  was 
rumored  that  President  Roosevelt 
expected  to  come  that  way  on  a 
hunting  trip.  In  their  younger  years 
Roosevelt  and  the  man  had  been  at 
Harvard  together,  and  together  they 
had  roughed  it  in  the  wooly  West. 
Then  life’s  scrimmage  caught  them 
up  and  drifted  them  apart.  Hearing  the  news  of  the 
expected  trip,  the  man’s  wife  thought  it  would  be  a 
fine  thing  to  entertain  the  President.  It  would  get 
their  name  into  the  newspapers,  excite  the  envy  of 
the  neighbors,  give  the  family  prestige.  She  was  all 
aflutter.  But  to  entertain  a President  as  she  thought  a 
President  should  be  entertained,  certain  improvements 
ought  to  be  made  in  the  home.  So  the  man  invested 
in  new  decorations,  a water  system  and  a bathroom. 

And  then  they  waited  for  the  President.  And  they 
waited.  But  a change  in  the  affairs  of  state  kept  the 
President  at  the  White  House. 

And  there  they  were — the  man  and  his  wife  and 
their  children.  He  had  spent  his  savings,  and  they 
had  a fine  home.  More  than  that — they  had  a glorious 
bathroom,  with  hot  and  cold  water  and  everything. 
Having  such  a bathroom,  they  used  it.  And  in  using 
it  the  family  gained  in  health,  wealth  and  happiness. 

They  had  missed  the  President,  but  they  had  found 


4 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


the  fountain  of  youth  and  learned  the  fine  art  of  living. 
And  that  was  worth  something.  Well,  I guess  so. 

President  Roosevelt  did  his  work  and  passed  on 
without  ever  knowing,  so  far  as  I know,  of  the  great 
blessing  he  had  been  the  means  of  bringing  into  the 
lives  of  the  man  and  his  wife  and  their  children. 

And  that  is  all  there  is  to  the  story,  which,  come  to 
think  of  it,  isn’t  a story  at  all,  is  it?  It  is  merely  a 
climax,  or  the  last  chapter. 

So,  too,  the  story  of  the  bath  may  turn  out  to  be  the 
last  chapter  in  the  age-old  search  for  the  fountain  of 
youth.  The  last  chapter,  you  know,  sums  up  all  that 
has  gone  before — brings  to  life  little  things  overlooked 
or  forgotten-leaves  everybody  facing  the  East,  happy 
forever  after. 

The  story  of  the  bath  is  not  a new  story.  It  is  as 
old  as  time;  as  fresh  as  this  morning’s  morning. 
Where  did  it  begin?  Nobody  knows.  Where  will  it 
end?  Ah ! that  is  for  you  to  decide. 

This  much  we  know.  All  of  us  are  creatures  of 
habit.  That  is  to  say,  we  do  or  we  do  not  do  certain 
things  today  because  somebody  did  or  did  not  do 
certain  things  yesterday.  Then  there  are  the  little 
turns  in  our  lives,  like  the  turn  in  the  lives  of  the  man 
and  his  wife  and  their  children.  If  these  turns  are 
to  the  right,  they  help  us  ; if  they  are  not,  they  hinder  us. 

We  ought  to  live  to  be  a hundred,  and  we  will  when 
we  know  how  to  live.  Of  course  we  will.  There  is  no 
doubt  of  it.  Then  we  shall  be  so  radiant  with  health 
and  energy  that  to  fall  sick  will  be  to  fall  from  grace. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


5 


A boy’s  Saturday  night  protest  is  not  a protest  against 
the  bath.  It  is  but  an  echo  of  a time-worn  wail  against 
washtubs  filled  too  hot  or  too  cold,  gouged  ears,  and 
skins  polished  raw  with  the  soft  side  of  gunny  sacks. 
Who  wouldn’t  protest?  Boys  like  water.  For  nine- 
tenths  of  their  body  cells  are  water  cells.  But  they 
like  it  humanely  administered.  And  so  does  father 
and  mother  and  all  the  rest  of  us. 

Make  it  easy  to  bathe  and  the  protest  will  take 
flight  along  with  colds,  bad  complexions,  that  tired 
feeling,  and  other  disagreeable  things. 

As  far  back  as  history  takes  us,  which  is  far  enough, 
nations  that  climbed  to  the  top — that  did  things,  and 
that  live  because  of  the  things  they  did — used  plenty 
of  water. 

When  Egypt  wore  the  crown  of  civilization,  the 
Egyptians  were  frequent  bathers ; when  Greece  was 
the  glory  of  the  world,  her  bathing  was  the  glory  of 
the  Greeks;  when  all  roads  led  to  Rome,  all  feet  led 
to  the  Roman  baths.  But  that  was  then.  Just  so. 

But  this  is  now.  In  Japan,  where  everybody  takes 
a bath  a day,  and  apologizes  for  not  taking  two,  progress 
moves  at  a swift  pace.  In  Russia,  where  millions  of 
people  get  only  three  baths  in  their  whole  lives — one 
after  they  are  born,  one  before  they  are  married,  and 
one  after  they  die — there  is  stagnation,  poverty, 
misery. 

Such  wide  differences  may  not  be  entirely  due  to  the 
bath.  Maybe  not.  But  it  is  a vital  step  in  the  upward 
climb.  It  promotes  health,  energy,  self-respect,  and 


ft 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


only  a healthy,  energetic,  self-respecting  people  are 
prosperous. 

On  sight  you  can  tell  a man  who  is  not  a regular 
bather.  Of  course  you  can’t  tell  him  much,  but — 
well,  you  can  tell  that  a bath  a day  is  not  his  habit. 
The  daily  bath  is  a body  builder.  It  is  the  first  step 
in  the  fine  art  of  living.  It  molds  character,  and  then 
emphasizes  it. 

Like  Tolstoy’s  shoemaker,  who  judged  people  by 
their  shoes,  and  nearly  always  was  right,  it  is  easy  to 
pick  out  of  a crowd  those  with  the  bath  habit.  The 
shoemaker  had  his  shop  in  a basement.  When  he 
looked  up  from  his  work  he  saw  the  feet  of  the  people 
as  they  passed.  He  could  not  see  their  faces — only 
their  feet.  He  learned  that  shoes  emphasize  character. 
One  day  a man  went  by  barefoot.  The  shoemaker 
jumped  up  and  rushed  out — but  then,  that’s  another 
story. 


you  are  very,  very  young,  a hundred 
years  seem  a long,  long  time.  But 
if  you  are  very,  very  old,  gracious 
me!  a hundred  years  seem  next  to 
nothing.  Suppose,  for  instance,  a 
woman,  who  is  one  hundred  years 
old  today,  could  touch  fingertips 
with  a woman  who  lived  a century 
ago,  and  she,  in  turn,  could  touch 
fingertips  with  a woman  who  lived  one  hundred  years 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


1 


before  that,  and  so  on  down  the  steps  of  time.  Do 
you  know  there  would  be  only  sixty  century-old  old 
women  from  this  year  of  luxury  back  to  the  scantiness 
of  Mother  Eve?  Think  of  that.  Then  think  of  this. 
Of  the  sixty  little  old  women  in  a row  only  the  last 
three  ever  used  soap.  The  other  fifty-seven  never 
even  so  much  as  heard  of  it.  And  but  one,  if  you 
please — still  hale  and  hearty — knew  the  conveniences 
of  a modern  bathroom. 

Of  course  people  always  bathed,  more  or  less— in 
rivers,  ponds,  lakes,  and  so  forth.  And  for  the  want 
of  soap  some  of  the  little  old  women  used  oils  or  sand. 
Like  the  Arab,  who  bathes  in  sand — rolls  in  it,  rubs  it 
over  him — they  came  clean  by  erasure. 

So  far  as  we  know  the  first  bathroom  was  in  the 
city  of  Cnossos,  on  the  island  of  Crete,  four  thousand 
years  ago.  The  ruins  of  a much  later  model,  dating 
back  only  twenty-five  hundred  years,  have  been  found 
in  Tirgus,  which  is  in  Greece. 

The  Greeks  were  the  first  to  use  bath  tubs,  though 
the  tubs  they  used  were  not  tubs  at  all.  They  were 
bowls — overgrown  punch  bowls,  you  might  say,  which 
rested  upon  pedestals  three  feet  high.  They  were 
large  enough  to  hold  the  water  for  a bath,  but  not 
large  enough  to  hold  the  bather.  The  bather  stood 
on  a stone  slab,  dipped  water  from  a bowl  and  poured 
it  over  his  body.  The  Greeks  regarded  warm  water 
as  weakening — “effeminate”  I think  they  called  it — 
and  so  they  took  their  baths  cold. 

Civilization  got  its  start  in  Egypt.  Along  with  the 


8 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


cultivation  of  wheat , the  Egyptians  cultivated  the  bath 

habit. 

Some  thirty-four  hundred  years  ago,  you  remember, 
while  taking  her  daily  bath  in  the  river  Nile,  one  of  the 
daughters  of  one  of  the  Pharaohs  found  a baby  floating 
in  a basket.  She  named  the  baby  Moses,  a word 
borrowed  from  the  Hebrew,  meaning  “to  draw  out,” 
because  she  had  drawn  him  out  of  the  water.  And 
Moses  grew  up,  as  babies  have  a habit  of  doing,  and 
became  the  world’s  first  great  teacher. 

Among  other  things  Moses  taught  hygiene,  sanita- 
tion, and  the  fine  art  of  living.  He  knew  that  to  keep 
clean  is  to  prevent  disease,  and  to  prevent  disease  is 
to  build  a strong  race  of  people. 

His  aim  was  to  fix  the  habit  of  cleanliness,  for  a habit 
once  fixed  usually  sticks.  To  fix  the  habit — to  impress 
with  authority— Moses  uttered  his  teachings  as 
Divine  commands.  “Thus  saith  the  Lord,”  he  would 
say.  This  gave  the  bath  a religious  touch.  And  why 
not?  Is  not  a morning  bath  like  a morning  prayer? 
I will  leave  it  to  you. 

More  than  three  thousand  years  after  Moses  went 
up  into  the  mountain  and  forgot  to  come  back,  another 
teacher,  John  Wesley,  the  first  Methodist,  was  riding 
along  a road  in  England  when  he  came  to  the  dirty 
little  village  of  Burslem. 

It  so  happened  that  in  Burslem  there  lived  a poor, 
lame  potter  by  the  name  of  Josiah  Wedgwood.  This 
potter  was  to  become  the  richest  man  in  England,  who, 
up  to  that  time,  had  made  his  own  fortune?  also,  he 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


9 


was  to  become  the  grandfather  of  Charles  Darwin,  the 
world’s  greatest  scientist. 

Now  Wedgwood  was  a worker  who  mixed  much 
teaching  with  his  work.  John  Wesley  drew  rein  as 
he  saw  Wedgwood  trying  to  teach  his  potters  the 
lesson  Moses  had  tried  to  teach— -that  keeping  clean 
increases  health,  which  increases  energy,  which  in- 
creases efficiency.  And  there,  sitting  on  his  horse, 
and  seeing  what  he  saw,  Wesley  spoke  for  the  first 
time  the  now-famous  phrase:  “Cleanliness  is  next  to 
godliness.” 

And  Wedgwood  looked  up,  smiled,  and  added : 
“Yes,  and  sometimes  it  is  next  to  impossible.” 


"Jo^rv 

We$icv 


HE  modern  club  grew  out  of  the  Roman 
bath.  Before,  as  well  as  after  Nero’s 
brief  violin  performance,  it  was  not 
unusual  for  the  wife  of  a Roman 
business  man  to  receive  a note  like 
this:  “Adored  One — I cannot  sup 
with  you  this  evening,  for  I have  an 
appointment  with  a citizen  at  the 
Therma.” 

The  business  man  of  today  picks  up  a telephone: 
“Hello— is  that  you,  dear?  This  is  me.  Say,  I won’t 
be  home  for  dinner.  Got  to  meet  a man  at  the  club. 
Who?  John  Smith  from  Kalamazoo.  Won’t  be  late. 
Bye-bye.” 


10 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


And  that  is  the  difference  between  the  Rome  that 
was  and  the  America  that  is. 

The  Roman  bath  was  called  Therma,  meaning  heat, 
from  which  we  get  thermos — thermos  bottle.  The 
Thermas  did  not  have  canned  music,  electric  lights 
nor  ash  trays,  but,  in  magnificence,  they  outshone  any 
club  of  this  year  of  peace  and  plenty. 

Rome  knew  only  two  classes  of  people — the  washed 
and  the  unwashed.  And  then,  as  now,  the  unwashed 
were  crowded  beyond  the  pale  of  polite  society. 

Every  family  that  could  afford  a bathroom  had  one. 
Those  who  could  not  afford  this  convenience,  as  well 
as  those  who  could,  spent  their  idle  hours  at  the  public 
Thermas.  Bathing  became  an  art,  a recreation,  a 
pleasure — a worship  of  health  and  beauty  through 
skins  kept  clean. 

The  largest  Therma  covered  a square  mile  of  ground. 
The  huge  Diocletian  could  take  care  of  thirty-two 
hundred  bathers  at  one  time,  while  the  Caracalla,  the 
finest  of  them  all,  had  room  for  half  as  many.  Besides 
hot  and  cold  baths,  the  Thermas  were  provided  with 
perspiring  rooms,  dressing  rooms,  swimming  pools, 
athletic  fields,  gymnasiums,  lecture  halls,  and  places 
for  rest,  refreshment  and  conversation.  And  there 
were  Thermas  for  women,  as  well  as  for  men. 

In  these  public  baths  the  Romans  exercised,  kept 
their  bodies  clean,  stimulated  the  circulation  of  their 
blood,  prevented  disease  or  cured  whatever  ailed 
them,  rested,  enjoyed  the  companionship  of  their 
fellows,  and  fed  their  souls  with  the  beautiful  carvings 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


11 


of  ancient  sculptors — all  for  one  quadrans,  which,  in 
Uncle  Sam’s  money,  would  be  one-fourth  of  one  cent. 

For  six  hundred  years,  so  Pliny,  the  historian,  says, 
Rome  used  no  medicine  but  her  baths. 

A real  Roman  cleansing  consisted  of  a sweat,  a 
scrape  and  a shower.  Or,  as  the  invention  of  the 
shower  was  yet  to  be,  perhaps  “pouring”  is  a better 
word.  That  is,  after  a sweat  and  a scrape,  water  was 
poured  over  the  body  until  it  was  washed  clean. 
Then  came  a massage  or  rubdown,  followed  by  a good 
rest.  Thus  from  Rome,  by  the  way  of  Turkey,  arrived 
the  Turkish  bath,  which  finally  reached  America  in 
1865. 

Scraping  off  the  perspiration  brought  about  the 
invention  of  the  perspiration  scraper.  Usually  we  get 
what  we  need  when  we  need  it. 

Every  age  that  has  yet  been  born  has  blazoned  its 
symbol  of  wealth.  What  is  the  good  of  gold  if  it 
can’t  be  shown?  In  one  age  furs  bespoke  personal 
wealth ; in  another,  beads ; then  silks ; then  combs  for 
milady’s  hair;  then  full-length  mirrors,  that  the  fair 
might  see  themselves  as  others  saw  them ; next  it  was 
the  carriage  or  the  piano ; and  now — now  what  shall 
we  say?  Is  it  the  latest  motor  or  a flying  boat? 

In  the  age  of  the  Roman  Therma  the  symbol  of 
wealth  was  the  perspiration  scraper.  Of  course  a 
smooth  piece  of  wood  would  do ; but  then,  wood  was 
so  common.  Anybody  could  have  wood.  So  the 
wealth  of  the  wealthy  was  displayed  in  bone,  bronze, 
silver  and  gold  scrapers. 


12 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


The  Romans  carried  their  scrapers  down  to  the 
bath  much  as  we  modern  mortals  carry  our  bathing 
suits  down  to  the  beach. 

The  upper  classes  were  scraped  by  their  slaves; 
but  the  poor,  thank  goodness,  could  scrape  themselves. 

Once  in  a while  Roman  politicians  opened  their 
private  baths  to  the  free  use  of  the  public.  American 
politicians  give  free  outings.  Instead  of  picnics,  as  is 
the  American  custom,  politicians  of  Rome,  from  the 
Emperor  down,  mingled  with  the  people  by  bathing 
with  them. 

And  so  politics  is  politics — in  Rome  as  in  America — 
yesterday  as  today. 

One  time,  while  at  a public  bath,  the  Emperor 
noticed  an  old  soldier  rubbing  his  back  against  a 
marble  wall.  The  Emperor  asked  the  soldier  why  he 
used  the  wall  as  a scraper. 

“Alas,  sire,”  answered  the  soldier,  “I  am  very  poor 
—too  poor  to  own  a slave,  and  too  feeble  to  scrape 
myself  with  a scraper.” 

Forthwith  the  Emperor  gave  the  soldier  money  and 
a slave. 

The  next  day,  when  the  Emperor  came  to  the  bath, 
he  found  a long  row  of  old  men  rubbing  their  backs 
against  a wall. 

And  so  human  nature  is  human  nature— in  Rome  as 
in  America— yesterday  as  today. 

A clean  nation  is  a progressive  nation,  and  a pro- 
gressive nation  is  a ruling  nation.  But  alas,  alack, 
the  thirst  for  power— the  spirit  of  conquest — reaching 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


13 


out  and  out  for  more  and  more— and  Rome  crumbled, 

and  progress  crumbled  with  her.  And  the  world  went 
to  sleep  and  slept  for  a thousand  years,  or,  to  say  it  in 
another  way,  a thousand  years  without  a bath. 


THOUSAND  years  without  a bath! 
Surely,  those  were  Dark  Ages— 
dark  with  dirt.  But  wait.  Before 
going  into  that,  let  me  say  this : 
Knights  of  the  Bath  are  not  Saturday 
Nights. 

The  Order  of  the  Bath,  from 
whence  emerged  the  Knights  of  the 
Bath,  was  a little  pleasantry  set 
agoing  by  Henry  the  Fourth  of  England  in  the  year 
thirteen  hundred  ninety-nine.  But  was  it  a pleasantry? 
One  never  can  tell  about  an  Englishman.  Henry  may 
have  been  serious.  He  lived  in  a serious  time,  and 
serious  times  make  serious  people.  Europe  was  be- 
ginning to  rub  its  eyes  and  creep  out  of  the  filth  of  ten 
mouldy  centuries.  Perhaps  King  Henry  thought  it 
time  to  wash  up,  which  is  to  wake  up. 

“In  days  of  old,  the  knights  were  bold,”  so  the  poet 
wrote — but  not  bold  enough  to  take  a bath.  Henry 
knew  this.  He  knew  that  a knight  shied  at  water 
like  an  elephant  shies  at  a mouse.  Hence  the  Order 
of  the  Bath. 

Candidates  for  this  order  were  selected  by  the 


M 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


King.  But,  before  a candidate  could  be  initiated,  he 
must  take  a bath.  Ah ! there  was  the  rub ! 

Having  been  led  into  the  bath,  and  having  survived 
the  shock,  the  knight  became  a shining  example  to 
others,  who,  though  less  favored,  were  equally  in  need 
of  water. 

Habit  ever  clings  like  a clinging  vine.  For  even 
now,  when  a man  is  about  to  be  initiated  into  a secret 
order,  he  takes  a bath  on  suspicion. 

The  pendulum  never  swings  half  way.  It  swings 
from  one  extreme  to  the  other.  Thus,  from  the 
cleanliness  and  the  glowing  health  of  Rome,  the 
pendulum  swung  to  the  uncleanliness  and  the  stalking 
pestilence  of  the  years  that  followed.  The  bath  had 
been  a part  of  Rome’s  pagan  splendor.  With  the  rise 
of  Christianity,  what  was  more  natural  than  the 
thought  that  water  loosens  morals  as  well  as  dirt? 
The  early  Christians  turned  their  backs  upon  the 
bath — they  would  have  none  of  it — and  because  of  this 
civilization  suffered  for  a thousand  years. 

Europe  forgot,  or  did  not  know,  that  nature  demands 
a clean  skin.  So  the  bath  was  given  absent  treatment ; 
Christianity  marched  on  its  victorious  way;  plague 
pursued  the  unbathed  in  the  still  watches  of  the 
night ; London  was  without  a drainage  system ; each 
person  in  Paris  had  to  get  along  with  one  quart  of 
water  a day.  What  wonder  that  disease  and  death 
perched  on  every  doorstep?  People  died  like  flies. 
Christian  leaders  said  it  was  the  will  of  God.  But 
today  we  know  better.  I should  say  we  do.  They 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


15 


died  for  the  want  of  proper  sanitation,  for  the  want  of 
plenty  of  water,  for  the  want  of  regular  bathing. 

King  Henry  knew  what  he  was  about  when  he 
founded  the  Order  of  the  Bath.  I think  so. 

Great  as  we  are,  and  smart  as  we  are,  we  Americans 
have  not  moved  so  fast,  sanitarily  speaking.  It  is 
only  a hundred  years  since  the  first  pumping  station 
in  this  country  started  to  pump.  Chicago  was  our 
first  city  to  have  a real  sewerage  system,  and  that  was 
not  until  1855.  We  had  no  public  baths  until  1891. 
Even  today  some  families  think  so  little  of  their  bath 
tubs  they  use  them  for  coal  or  vegetable  bins. 

Less  than  forty  years  ago  yellow  fever  and  smallpox 
were  frequent  callers.  And  before  that  cholera  boldly 
strode  the  highways  and  byways  counting  its  victims. 
Plague  spots  dotted  our  landscape.  Now  all  that  is 
changed.  And  what  did  it?  This,  and  nothing  more  : 
Pure  water  piped  into  the  home;  poisonous  waste 
piped  out  of  the  home ; bathing ; learning  how  to  live, 
which,  I’m  sure  you  will  agree,  is  better  than  learning 
how  to  die. 

The  science  of  living,  or  sanitation — they  mean  the 
same — has  to  do  with  heat,  light,  water,  cleanliness 
and  ventilation.  And  these  have  to  do  with  the  five 
most  important  things  of  life — comfort,  health,  ambi- 
tion, efficiency,  happiness.  Where  sanitation  is  a 
stranger,  sickness  is  a constant  guest. 

The  Crusaders  of  the  Dark  Ages  went  into  the  East 
carrying  the  Cross.  They  came  back  bearing  the 
standard  of  the  bath,  for  the  bath  had  never  been  lost 


16 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


to  the  people  of  the  East.  This  was  a fair  exchange. 
And  with  the  bath  restored,  civilization  slowly  scrubbed 
itself  and  resumed  its  onward  march. 

We  are  only  just  now  recovering  from  that  long, 
sleepy,  bathless  stretch  o’  time. 

But,  if  you  don’t  mind,  let  us  go  back  to  the  famous 
Saturday  Nights,  which,  by  the  way,  have  never  left 
us.  They  were  handed  down  by  the  old  Norsemen, 
who  dubbed  Saturday  “washing  day.” 

Their  bathroom,  or  “wash  hut,”  as  they  called  it, 
was  as  air-tight  as  logs  and  clay  could  make  it.  In 
the  center  of  the  hut  was  an  oven-like  pile  of  stones. 
A hole  in  the  roof  let  the  smoke  out.  A fire  was  kept 
burning  under  the  stones  until  they  were  hot.  Then 
the  fire  was  raked  away  and  the  hole  in  the  roof 
covered  over.  Buckets  of  cold  water  were  carried 
into  the  hut;  switches,  soaked  soft,  were  placed  in 
handy  places. 

What  ho ! the  Saturday  night  bath  was  ready.  The 
family  assembled.  Sometimes  the  neighbors  came. 
It  was  a gala  night. 

The  hut  was  closed  tight.  Water  poured  over  the 
hot  stones  produced  steam;  steam  produced  sweat; 
switches  used  on  each  other  increased  the  circulation 
of  the  blood;  cold  water  thrown  over  the  bathers 
created  a warm,  tingling  sensation  and  washed  their 
bodies  clean. 

And  that  was  the  beginning  of  our  Saturday  Nights, 
which,  you  see,  have  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  Knights 
of  the  Bath. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


17 


HE  dream  of  Ponce  de  Leon  lias  come 
true.  The  elusive  fountain  of  youth, 
for  which  he  searched,  has  been 
found.  Today  we  know  where  this 
fountain  is.  Like  happiness,  it  is  in 
our  own  home — in  our  own  bath- 
room. And  it  does  all  that  Ponce 
de  Leon  hoped  for.  It  rests  the 
weary,  heals  the  sick,  and  adds  vigor 
to  the  creeping  years. 

This  fountain  of  youth  was  first  used  in  an  American 
home  at  about  eight  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  Decem- 
ber 20,  1842,  in  the  City  of  Cincinnati,  State  of  Ohio, 
by  one  Adam  Thompson. 

Thompson  had  been  on  a trip  to  England.  There 
he  got  to  know  Lord  John  Russell,  who,  a dozen  years 
before,  had  invented  a bath  tub.  The  English  were 
as  slow  in  taking  to  the  tub  as  the  knights  of  old  had 
been  in  taking  to  the  bath.  When  Thompson  and 
Russell  met,  Lord  John  was  the  only  man  in  England 
who  took  a bath  a day.  Thompson  tried  this  English 
tub,  and  then  came  home  to  make  improvements. 

He  had  a Cincinnati  cabinet-maker  make  a tub  of 
mahogany,  seven  feet  long  by  four  wide,  and  line  it 
with  sheet  lead.  When  finished  it  weighed  nearly  a 
ton.  A pipe  carried  water  from  the  backyard  pump  to 
a tank  in  the  attic.  Two  pipes  reached  from  the  tank 
to  the  tub.  One  of  these  carried  cold  water;  the 


18 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


Crude?  Yes.  But  from  that  first  crude  tub  has 
grown  the  plumbing  industry,  which  does  a business 
of  something  like  a thousand  million  dollars  a year. 
And  yet,  with  all  this  business,  there  are  millions  of 
homes  that  do  not  have  real  bathrooms.  Progress  is 
slow,  even  when  it  seems  fast. 

On  that  December  morn,  eighty  years  ago,  Thomp- 
son took  a bath  in  his  bath  tub.  He  was  so  pleased 
that  in  the  evening  he  took  another.  Wonderful!  He 
must  show  the  fountain  of  youth  to  his  friends.  So  he 
gave  a Christmas  party.  Four  of  the  party,  a bit 
braver  than  the  rest,  took  a bath.  And  what  do  you 
think?  Nothing  happened  to  them. 

The  news  spread.  People  came  to  see  the  “new- 
fangled contraption.”  Then  the  agitators  started  to 
agitate.  Newspapers  said  a bath  a day  would  ruin  the 
democratic  simplicity  of  the  republic.  Doctors  pre- 
dicted rheumatism,  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  and 
other  ailments  that  only  doctors  could  pronounce. 

Bathe  in  winter?  Why,  the  idea ! 

Remembering  the  command  of  Moses,  “Bathe  his 
flesh  in  running  water  and  be  clean,”  the  preachers 
said  nothing. 

Had  Adam  Thompson  introduced  his  bath  tub  a few 
centuries  earlier,  he  might  have  been  the  center  of  a 
bonfire.  In  which  case  we  would  now  be  building 
monuments  to  his  greatness.  As  it  is,  he  lives  only 
because  of  the  stir  he  stirred. 

For  instance,  Philadelphia,  “the  cradle  of  liberty,” 
tried  to  put  a ban  on  bathing  from  the  first  of  November 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


19 


to  the  middle  of  March.  And  the  ban  would  have  been 
put  had  not  a majority  of  two  in  the  common  council 
been  blessed  with  a sense  of  humor  and  voted  “nay.” 
Virginia  took  a slap  at  bathing  by  placing  a tax  of 
thirty  dollars  a year  on  every  tub  brought  into  the 
state.  Hartford,  Providence,  Wilmington  and  other 
cities  blocked  the  bath  habit  with  extra  heavy  water 
rates  to  bathers.  Soak  ’em — that  was  their  motto- 
soak  ’em  in  the  tub  and  out  of  it. 

Boston,  forgetting  her  little  tea  party,  in  1845  made 
bathing  unlawful  except  upon  medical  advice.  Bath 
prescriptions ! What  do  you  think  of  that?  No  wonder 
Shakespeare  smiled  and  wrote,  “What  fools  these 
mortals  be.” 

Like  every  other  new  idea,  the  bath  had  to  fight  its 
way.  For  a matter  o’  that,  it  is  still  fighting.  Not  half 
the  people  take  half  the  baths  they  should.  Yet  the 
bath  is  worth  more  to  our  well-being  than  any  tonic 
put  up  in  bottles. 

In  1850,  after  Zachary  Taylor's  death,  and  Vice- 
President  Millard  Fillmore  became  President,  he 
ordered  a bath  tub  installed  in  the  White  House.  And 
this  tub  served  the  official  family  until  Grover  Cleve- 
land moved  in  thirty-five  years  later. 

By  1860  every  first-class  hotel  in  New  York  had  a 
bath  tub,  and  a few  boasted  of  even  two  or  three. 
Now  hotels  advertise,  “1,000  rooms  with  1,000  baths.” 
When  a new  idea  arrives,  we  laugh,  then  condemn, 
then  adopt.  And  thus  progress  continues  to  progress. 

Aside  from  human  doubt,  which  is  ever  with  us, 


20 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


there  was  another  reason  for  the  slow  advance  of  the 
bath  tub.  When  Thompson  shocked  the  nation  with 
a bath  a day,  people  were  using  the  old  oaken  bucket 
and  the  backyard  pump.  A tub  in  the  home  called 
for  water  in  the  home.  But  how  was  water  to  be 
gotten  there?  That  was  the  question.  Water  systems, 
sanitation  and  plumbing  were  not  often  mentioned, 
and  were  less  often  seen. 

One  thing  always  leads  to  something  else.  The  bath 
tub  led  to  a flow  of  water  into  the  home  and  a flow  of 
waste  out  of  the  home,  and  the  two  led  to  better 
living. 

Then  came  the  shower.  It  added  convenience  and 
pleasure  to  bathing,  and  these  made  bathing  more 

popular. 

History  has  a habit  of  frequently  leaving  us  in  the 
dark.  And  so  just  what  the  shower  was  before  it  was 
a real  shower,  is  hard  to  say.  If  may  have  been 
suggested  by  nature’s  own.  At  any  rate,  the  first 
invention  of  the  kind  was  called  “rain  bathing.”  It 
came  a year  after  Thompson’s  tub.  It  consisted  of  a 
trough,  and  a wooden  box  with  holes  bored  in  the 
bottom.  The  wooden  box  was  stationary,  and  was 
placed  a little  higher  than  a man’s  head.  The  trough 
was  lowered  and  raised  by  ropes  and  pulleys.  To 
take  a shower,  all  one  had  to  do  was  to  lower  the 
trough,  fill  it  with  water,  pull  it  up,  tie  it,  tilt  it,  and  the 
water  would  run  out  of  the  trough,  into  the  box, 
through  the  holes,  onto  the  bather.  Simple,  was  it 
not? 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


Z\ 


From  this  beginning,  which  was  hardly  a beginning 
at  all,  the  shower  has  been  perfected  within  a space  of 
thirty  years. 

A bath  is  a bath.  Its  value  never  grows  less.  The 
only  change  is  in  the  many  improvements  which  make 
for  comfort,  ease  and  the  economy  of  time.  In  this — 
I mean  in  the  manufacture  of  bath  equipment — 
America  leads  the  world. 

Any  home,  no  matter  where  or  how  small,  can 
afford  its  own  fountain  of  youth.  Afford  it?  Why, 
bless  you,  we  can  afford  anything  but  poor  health. 


WO  men  met.  One  was  cheerful,  the 
other  was  not.  “See!"  exclaimed 
the  cheerful  one,  “what  a beautiful 
woman!”  “Huh!”  grunted  the 
grouch,  “bones — bones  covered  with 
skin.”  The  cheerful  one  smiled, 
“Yes;  but  what  a skin!”  All  of 
which  serves  to  remind  us  that  a 
beautiful  skin  is  the  result  of  beauti- 
ful health,  and  beautiful  health  is  the  result  of — — — -. 
But  that  is  the  point.  What  is  beautiful  health  the 
result  of? 

The  skin  is  more  than  a covering  for  bones.  It  is 
the  human  keyboard.  Play  on  it  plenty  of  water  and 
every  organ  of  the  body  will  echo  in  harmony.  There 
is  nothing  like  water  for  stirring  to  action  or  lulling  to 


22 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


rest  the  human  machine,  so  simple,  yet  so  wonderful. 

When  the  world  seems  blue,  take  a bath  and  watch 
it  grow  rosy. 

There  is  so  much  water,  and  it  costs  so  little,  I 
wonder  if  we  appreciate  its  full  value?  Just  suppose 
you  got  up  in  the  morning  and  found  there  was  not  a 
drop  of  water  in  the  whole  world. 

But  we  were  speaking  of  skin.  Exactly.  Well,  here 
is  a square  inch  of  skin  under  a glass  which  makes 
things  seem  large.  Look  at  it.  Surprised?  No  doubt. 
Do  you  see  those  little  pores?  Little  sewer  outlets,  I 
call  them.  There  are  about  twenty-five  hundred  of 
those  sewer  outlets  to  every  square  inch  of  our  eighteen 
square  feet  of  skin  surface.  Omitting  the  fat  woman 
and  the  living  skeleton,  who  have  more  or  less,  each 
of  us  averages  between  three  and  four  million  outlets. 

Take  another  look.  You  see  each  outlet  is  connected 
with  a little  drain  pipe.  If  these  millions  of  drain 
pipes  were  put  end  to  end,  they  would  make  one  pipe 
many  miles  long.  A covering  for  bones — why,  say, 
our  skin  holds  the  greatest  system  of  sanitation  ever 
invented.  This  system  empties  onto  the  surface  of 
the  skin  about  two  pounds  of  waste  matter  every 
twenty-four  hours.  And  every  day  our  skin  collects  a 
lot  of  smoke  and  dust  which  must  be  gotten  rid  of. 

Ah ! but  suppose  the  skin  is  not  kept  clean — suppose 
the  waste  matter  and  the  dust  are  not  washed  off — 
what  then?  The  sewer  outlets  get  stopped  up,  don’t 
they?  The  waste  can’t  get  out.  And  when  the  waste 
can’t  get  out,  it  clogs  the  drain  pipes,  doesn’t  it?  So, 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


23 


with  drains  clogged  and  outlets  closed,  the  waste  has 
no  place  to  go  but  back  into  the  body.  And  there  the 
waste  turns  to  poison.  Then  what  happens?  A des- 
perate struggle  begins. 

We  sometimes  speak  of  conscience  as  the  regulator 
of  the  mind.  Did  you  ever  think  of  the  organs  as  the 
regulator  of  the  body?  Without  a clean  outside,  there 
cannot  be  a clean  inside ; without  a clean  inside,  there 
cannot  be  clean  organs ; without  clean  organs,  there 
cannot  be  a clean  mind — a clean  conscience.  Thus 
beautiful  health,  a beautiful  skin,  honesty,  thrift, 
right  thinking— all  have  their  beginnings  in  a clean 
skin. 

One  might  be  prosperous  and  dirty,  or  progressive 
and  filthy,  or  even  learned  and  foul.  Yes,  one  might. 
And  so  might  a President,  or  a champion  heavy-weight, 
or  a prize  beauty  be  in  chronic  need  of  a bath.  But 
such  extremes  rarely  travel  together. 

But  let  us  go  back.  When  waste  matter — poison — 
is  in  the  body,  the  organs  are  forced  to  work  overtime. 
They  must  do  their  own  work;  also  the  work  of  the 
closed  drains  and  outlets.  If  the  work  becomes  too 
heavy,  disease  sets  in,  and  there’s  a hurry  call  for  the 
doctor. 

And  that  is  the  first  reason  for  a good  soap  and  water 
scrubbing — to  keep  the  surface  clean  and  the  outlets 
open.  Those  with  the  daily  bath  habit  need  only  one 
weekly  scrubbing.  But  those  who  are  yet  to  know 
the  pleasure  of  a bath  a day,  should  scrub  two  or  three 
times  a week,  and  be  sure  to  use  a pure,  mild  soap. 


24 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


A second  reason  for  keeping  the  outlets  open  is 
this:  The  skin  is  the  “third  lung.”  We  breathe 
through  the  skin.  And  this  skin-breathing  ventilates 
the  body — keeps  it  refreshed  with  fresh  air. 

/ Many  years  ago  Cellini,  the  great  Italian  artist, 
/ gilded  a child  from  head  to  foot.  The  gilt  closed  the 
4$  pores — the  skin  could  not  breathe.  And  the  child 
lived  only  two  hours.  Later  a dancer  painted  his  body 
with  gold  paint.  He  thought  he  would  win  lasting 
fame.  He  did.  He  died.  Close  the  pores  of  the  skin 
and  death  is  as  sure  as  taxes. 

The  morning  dip  or  shower  cleanses.  And  it  does 
more.  It  is  a tonic.  It  exercises  the  skin  and  tones 
the  whole  body.  To  start  the  day  with  a bath  is  to 
start  with  that  “grand  an’  glorious  feeling.” 

And  this  is  how  the  daily  bath  does  its  work.  The 
blood  vessels  of  the  skin,  just  under  the  surface,  hold 
more  than  half  the  blood  of  the  body.  These  blood 
vessels  surround  the  ends  of  the  nerves.  The  nerves, 
like  little  telephone  wires,  connect  the  outer  surface 
with  the  inner  central  exchange.  Water  on  the  skin 
creates  certain  stimulating  sensations.  These  sensa- 
tions are  taken  up  by  the  ends  of  the  nerves  and 
hurried  over  the  wires  to  “Central,”  which,  in  *urn, 
relays  them  to  every  organ  of  the  body. 

Then,  too,  the  action  of  water  on  the  skin  causes 
the  blood  to  react.  In  other  words,  a cold  dip  or  shower 
cools  the  blood  at  the  surface.  As  this  cool  sensation 
is  ’phoned  throughout  the  body,  it  starts  a reaction 
which  grows  into  a warm,  up -and -doing  feeling— -a  fit 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


25 


attitude  for  the  day’s  battle.  It  makes  work  a pleasure. 

If  the  water  is  warm  instead  of  cold,  the  opposite 
effect  is  the  result.  That  is,  a warm  dip  or  shower 
warms  the  blood  at  the  surface,  and  this  warm  sensa® 
tion  sets  in  motion  a reaction  which  soothes  and  rests 
the  nerves  that  have  been  worn  jagged  by  too  much 
doing. 

You  might  say  that  a cool  bath  warms,  and  a warm 
bath  cools.  Also  that  a cool  bath  quickens  the  pace  of 
the  person  who  is  easy-going  ; while  a warm  bath  slows 
down  the  one  who  wants  to  go  too  fast. 

A bath  a day  is  the  best  health  insurance,  for  it 
prevents  sickness  by  keeping  the  bather  in  good 
condition. 

Sickness  is  not  like  the  old  man’s  troubles,  most  of 
which,  he  said,  “had  never  happened.”  Sickness 
overtakes  the  best  of  us  unless  we  do  the  things  which 
keep  ourselves  in  good  health. 

Any  person  who  can  take  time  to  be  sick,  can  take 
time  to  bathe.  Professor  Irving  Fisher,  of  Yale,  says 
the  wage  earners  of  America  lose  an  average  of  nine 
days  a year  through  sickness.  A bath  a day  would 
save  much  of  this  lost  time,  and  also  save  many 
dollars  for  the  bathers. 

To  live  long  and  well  is  no  longer  a mystery.  Bathe 
daily,  scrub  weekly,  breathe  deeply,  drink  plenty  of 
water,  chew  your  food.  That’s  all.  To  practice  these 
is  to  practice  the  fine  art  of  living — the  science  of 
sciences — for  we  must  be  healthy  before  we  can  be 
anything  else. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


2i 


LIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES  once 
said,  “Because  I like  a pinch  of  salt 
in  my  soup  is  no  reason  I wish  to  be 
immersed  in  brine.”  What  he  had 
in  mind  was  this : Enough  is  plenty ; 
more  than  enough  is  too  much.  To 
exercise  is  to  grow  strong,  but  to 
over-exercise  is  to  grow  “stale.” 
Eight  hours’  sleep  will  fit  a man  for 
a big  day’s  work,  but  to  double  his  sleeping  hours 
will  not  double  his  working  ability. 

And  so  it  is  with  bathing.  Enough  is  enough. 
Don’t  do  too  much,  and  don’t  do  the  wrong  thing. 

A thorough  soap  and  water  bath  is  good.  But  such 
a scrubbing  every  day  would  rob  the  skin  of  its  oil — 
cause  it  to  lose  some  of  its  softness.  And  because  a 
bath  a day  fills  you  with  the  joy  of  living,  don’t  imagine 
that  two  baths  a day  will  make  you  twice  as  joyful. 

Another  warning  may  not  be  out  of  place.  A friend 
waxes  warm,  so  to  speak,  over  his  bath.  You  say  to 
yourself,  “If  that  kind  of  a bath  is  good  for  him,  it 
ought  to  be  good  for  me.”  You  try  it.  And  you 
shiver  and  shake,  or  grow  tired  and  lose  your  “pep” 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Right  away  you  condemn  it. 
No  bath  a day  for  you — no,  sir.  And  you  slip  back  to 
the  old  Saturday  Nights. 

Friends  are  good  for  many  things,  but  not  for 
picking  our  baths.  The  bath  is  individual — the  most 
individual  thing  in  the  world,  unless  it  be  whiskers  or 
the  length  of  a woman’s  skirt.  Pick  your  own  bath. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


£f 


and  pick  it  by  finding  out  what  is  good  for  you.  It  is 
as  easy  to  know  the  bath  that  suits  you  as  it  is  to  know 
whether  you  like  olives  or  spinach. 

There  are  five  kinds  of  daily  baths-— cold,  cool, 
tepid,  warm,  hot.  Aside  from  cleanliness,  each  bath 
is  for  just  one  thing:  exhilaration — gladness — the  joy 
of  being  alive.  If  a cold  bath  gives  you  this  fine, 
glowing  feeling — whets  your  appetite  and  stimulates 
your  energy — then  a cold  bath  is  the  bath  for  you. 
If  it  doesn’t  do  this,  try  a cool,  tepid,  warm  or  hot 
bath,  or  start  the  water  a little  warm  and  let  it  grow 
cold.  Try  a different  one  every  day  until  the  reaction, 
or  the  come  back,  as  it  were,  exactly  suits  you.  You 
will  know  when  you  have  found  your  bath,  for  the 
nerves  will  shout  the  news. 

We  must  learn  to  fit  ourselves  with  baths  just  as 
we  have  learned  to  fit  ourselves  with  shoes. 

The  right  bath,  rightly  taken,  is  good  for  most  ail- 
ments. All  down  the  shifting  sands  of  time  water 
has  been  called  “Big  Medicine.”  Do  your  bathing 
before  eating,  not  afterward.  If  perchance  your  heart 
or  kidneys  are  weak,  or  you  feel  the  pangs  of  rheu- 
matism, or  you  are  wide  awake  when  you  should  be 
fast  asleep,  stick  to  the  warm  bath.  It  will  strengthen, 
relieve  pain  and  bring  rest. 

Half  the  good  of  a bath  lies  in  the  work  of  taking  it. 
To  rub  with  a rough  towel  is  to  exercise.  One  minute 
is  long  enough  for  the  daily  dip  or  shower ; two  minutes 
for  rubbing — three  minutes  all  told. 

The  best  that  can  be  said  of  any  good  habit  is  that 


28 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


it  leads  to  other  good  habits.  The  habit  of  a bath  a 
day  leads  to  the  habit  of  clean  clothes  and  clean 
homes,  hard  work  and  hard  play,  promptness  and 
courtesy,  straight  thinking  and  a willingness  to  serve. 
And  such  habits,  so  once  said  John  Jacob  Astor,  will 
make  any  man  well-to-do. 


BRY  little  while  somebody  is  heard 
to  say:  “What’s  all  this  talk  about 
a bath  a day?  Why  listen,  my 
father  used  to  take  a bath  in  a 
wash  tub  in  the  kitchen  on  Saturday 
night,  and  he  lived  to  be  seventy- 
eight.  And  my  grandfather  didn’t 
take  a bath  oftener  than  once  a 
month,  and  he  died  at  eighty-two.” 

Indeed?  Well,  well. 

If  there  is  any  satisfaction  in  going  into  the  past, 
why  stop  at  grandfather  and  his  once-a-month?  There 
is  Simeon  the  Syrian.  He  lived  for  thirty  years  with- 
out taking  a bath. 

Simeon  was  a monk  who  feared  that  he  might  not 
be  true  to  his  vows.  So  he  climbed  to  the  top  of  a 
marble  column,  sixty  feet  high,  and  there  on  the  cap- 
stone for  thirty  years  he  lived  beyond  reproach. 
During  all  those  years  his  only  bath  was  the  bath  of 
wind  and  weather. 

If  we  of  this  busy  day  lived  as  Simeon  did— I do 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


29 


not  mean  atop  of  a marble  column,  but  out  in  the 
open — or  lived  the  life  of  our  grandfathers,  a daily  bath 
would  not  be  so  necessary  to  our  welfare.  Still,  even 
then,  a bath  a day  would  be  worth  while. 

A century  ago  ninety-seven  out  of  every  hundred 
Americans  spent  most  of  their  waking  hours  out-of- 
doors.  The  fresh  air  and  the  sunshine  did  much  to 
sanitate  their  bodies.  Now  more  than  two-thirds  of 
us  are  indoors  most  of  the  time.  We  neither  work, 
dress  nor  live  as  did  your  grandfather  and  mine. 
Everything  is  different.  We  have  gained  in  con- 
veniences, comforts  and  luxuries,  but  in  gaining  these 
we  lost  the  great  outdoors. 

For  everything  we  lose  we  must  find  something  to 
take  its  place.  A bath  a day  is  the  best  substitute  for 
outdoor  living.  It  is  more  than  a substitute.  Bathing 
does  more  for  our  bodies  than  wind  and  weather 
can  do. 

We  live  much  better  than  our  grandfathers  did,  and 
slowly  but  surely  we  are  learning  to  live  much  longer. 
Working  hand-in-hand,  sanitation  and  therapeutics— 
the  sciences  of  living — have,  during  the  past  century, 
lengthened  the  span  of  life  six  years.  In  point  of  fact, 
a child  born  today  has  an  average  chance  of  living  six 
years  longer  than  had  a child  born  no  further  back  than 
when  a future  President  wTas  splitting  rails. 

People  who  are  sanitary  are  healthy,  and  healthy 
people  are  sound,  safe  and  sane.  Dirt  does  not  grow 
out  of  poverty ; poverty  grows  out  of  dirt.  The  criminal, 
the  plotter  agaii 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


— all  are  sick  men — sick  with  a sickness  born  of  un- 
cleanliness.  Change  their  sanitary  condition  and  they 
will  begin  to  see  “white,”  instead  of  “seeing  red.” 


One  hot  day  I tramped  far  off  the 


traveled  trail.  I came  to  a comfortable  house.  There, 
in  the  welcome  shade  of  a big  tree,  was  a bubbling 
fountain,  like  the  ones  you  have  seen  in  public  squares. 
Above  it  were  the  words,  “Pure  Water  for  Man  or 
Beast.”  I drank;  I bathed  my  face  and  hands.  The 
water,  cool  and  clear,  was  like  talcum  to  a sunburn. 

An  old  man,  with  snow-white  hair,  came  out  of  the 
house.  Old,  did  I say?  Well,  hardly.  His  fresh 
skin,  keen  eye  and  youthful  step — these  spoke  of 
forty;  not  of  sixty-five  or  so. 

“Plenty  of  water  has  stopped  the  telltale  signs  of 
aging  years,”  he  said.  “Water  has  given  to  mother 
and  me  and  the  children  a part  of  all  that  makes  life 
worth  the  living.  That’s  the  reason  for  this 
fountain.  It  invites  other  folks  to  get  better  ac- 


rx 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH 


SI 


quainted  with  water — to  use  more  of  it,  inside  and  out.** 

And  so  lie  talked  — and  so  I learned. 

As  I left  the  fountain  I met  another  man.  He  must 
have  been  a neighbor.  He  said  he  was  thirty,  but  he 
looked  every  minute  of  fifty.  Pointing  to  the  man  I 
had  just  left,  the  neighbor  tapped  his  forehead  signifi- 
cantly and  whispered,  “Cracked,  he  is  — water 
cracked.” 

A lump  came  up  in  my  throat.  I don’t  know  why — 
only-well,  somehow  I felt  glad  for  the  man  at  the 
fountain — the  man  who  was  called  “cracked.”  But  I 
knew  better.  And  I’ll  tell  you  why. 

The  man  at  the  fountain  was  the  man  whose  wife 
once  persuaded  him  to  invest  his  savings  in  new 
decorations,  a water  system  and  a bathroom,  that  they 
might  entertain  a certain  President.  And  this  man 
and  his  wife  have  lived  long  and  well — long  enough 
to  see  their  children  grow  up — to  see  one  become  a 
Governor,  another  the  sales  manager  of  a great  cor- 
poration, and  still  another  a rising  young  artist.  A 
bath  a day  did  not  pick  them  up  and  put  them  where 
they  are,  but  they  say  it  helped  them  on  their  way. 

“Cracked?”  Well,  I guess  not. 

And  should  you  ever  be  a guest  at  the  home  of  the 
man  and  his  wife,  or  at  the  homes  of  their  children, 
instead  of  the  usual  “Good  morning,  did  you  sleep 
well?”  you  would  be  greeted  with,  “Good  morning,  did 
you  enjoy  your  bath?” 

Is  that  a good  way  to  begin  the  day?  I say  is  it,  or 
isn’t  it?  And  if  it  isn’t,  what  is? 


AND  SO  HERE  ENDS  THE  STORY  OF  THE  BATH,  AS 
TOLD  BY  EDWIN  L.  BARKER,  ILLUSTRATED  BY 
ALBERT  W,  BARKER,  AND  PUBLISHED  AND  DIS- 
TRIBUTED BY  DOMESTIC  ENGINEERING,  WHICH  IS 
AT  190©  PRAIRIE  AVENUE,  CHICAGO  U.  S.  A. 

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